


Light

by sensationalfeeling9



Category: Cravity (Band)
Genre: Exes, Getting Back Together, M/M, Seongmin and Wonjin aren't idols either, everyone else is lol, jungmo is an idol, serim is an amateur boxer, serim living that y/n life lmfaoo, some kissing not rlly making out tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:00:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26447476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sensationalfeeling9/pseuds/sensationalfeeling9
Summary: Serim becomes Jungmo's biggest fan (again).Or, Serim and Jungmo are exes who find each other at a fan signing.
Relationships: Koo Jungmo/Park Serim
Comments: 1
Kudos: 43





	Light

The first time they meet again, Serim’s rather bored and slightly agitated at the fact that the same tiny girl with a massive camera is shoving him in the kidney every five seconds. It’s not like he chose to be subjected to this physical and mental torture so early in the day. Seongmin, his neighbor, decided to cash in a late birthday favor this morning, Serim’s only day off.

Seongmin comes crashing into his room, nonsensically babbling about how he has to attend summer academy today on short notice and can’t attend the fan signing for some group he likes, Gravity, Cavity—Serim doesn’t remember whatever made-up word Seongmin screeches in his face. Serim, startled awake and practically recovering from having a mini-heart attack, agrees to Seongmin’s last-ditch efforts to get his album signed. Seongmin plops the group’s album and few papers on the foot of his bed, tells him he’ll text him the details in a few minutes, and runs out to catch the bus.

Hours later, Serim finds himself in a cramped auditorium sitting next to about a hundred or so teenage girls and young women who’ve come from far and wide to this fan signing. Serim can’t judge, everyone has hobbies when they’re young. Serim collected Pokémon cards, these girls collect albums, one and the same, he thinks ironically.

Serim is still recovering from a lack of sleep and doesn’t notice the event starting and staff announcing directions through a shaky microphone. He’s still drop-dead tired from training and his body has barely recovered from the blows of yesterday’s intense sparring. Aside from that, he’s sitting all the way at the back next to camera girl and 2 teenage girls who can’t stop staring at him and giggling amongst themselves.

Even so, it’s hard to see because the auditorium is packed to the brim and all he can hear is indistinct chatter. But when the crowd finally subsides and more than half of the auditorium empties out, he catalogs the sight in front of him. The stage is decorated very minimally and it’s mostly just three long tables pushed together and a few chairs. The six members of the group are sitting, all of them smiling or laughing excitedly with six different girls who are holding their hands or petting their hair or doing something else that’s utterly embarrassing.

Serim slowly goes from left to right and notices how most of the members look no older than him. In fact, they all might be younger, in which Serim ponders about the legality of shoving a bunch of underage boys into fame, money, and consequentially, thousands—millions, of young female fans.

The tallest one sits in the middle, he’s apparently popular, judging by how many of his fans come to him and try their best to make him smile. He’s eighty percent legs and twenty percent pretty face, Serim thinks. The one directly to his left looks even younger with bright red hair and delicate, pixie-like features. The second to last one is all sharp lines and angularity.

Serim has to squint because pointy face guy, as he momentarily dubs him, seems to be extremely timid around fans, particularly the more insistent fans, and hides his face a lot. Most of the girls who approach him are notably gentler, placing cute headbands and little hats on his styled brown hair. Serim doesn’t know what changes in the few seconds that pointy face guy tilts his head slightly more upward and shows more of his face, but he’s setting off alarms in Serim’s head instantly.

Serim opens the album photobook, flips the book comprising of tastefully arranged concepts and angled shots, and finally arrives at the very familiar profile of this ‘pointy faced’ guy. Seongmin had told him to look through the album and at least pretend to be familiar with the members but he’d disregarded that entirely.

“Holy fuck,” Serim holds his breath because wow, that is most definitely Koo Jungmo from high school.

The same tiny mole near the bottom corner of his eye, the same wide mouth and plump lips, the same long, sharp nose. There was no mistaking that every detail of Koo Jungmo the idol belonged to Koo Jungmo, the introverted second year he’d left in the spring of his high school graduation.

As much as his mind wants to linger in this rose-streaked memories and previously brand-new feelings they’d felt together, he’s being pushed up and shoved out of the row he’s in by a line of girls who are squealing. It’s finally their time to go up and get their merchandise signed. Serim’s mind is traveling a thousand miles a second because he’s struggling with what to do with the newfound realization that his past boyfriend, fling, best friend—he doesn’t even know what they were, he just knows there was a lot of kissing involved and in a few ‘I love you’s on his part—is going to be staring into his eyeballs in less than ten minutes.

He’s second in line because camera girl, he later finds out she’s part of something called a fan site, swerves around him until she’s first in the line. When he finally gets to the first ‘stop’, it’s a tiny blond boy with plush lips and a big smile. His name is Allen, from what he understands, and they mostly just make small talk. Allen compliments his outfit and asks him where he got his shirt to which Serim feels his ears heat up because wow, someone famous likes his style and double wow, he’s actually giddy over something so minuscule.

He swears his heart starts to beat faster each time he shifts to the right and gets closer and closer to Jungmo, who’s in the middle of reciting some stupid aegyo song and talking in a baby voice for an older fan. Serim’s heart pretty much pops out of his chest when another instant passes, he takes another shift to the right and he’s staring at Jungmo dead on. He doesn’t know how long they hold each other’s gazes like that but Jungmo’s the first one to break the silence.

“—Hi,” Jungmo breathes, his wide mouth failing to bite back his grin.

“Jungmo, hi. I can’t believe—What are you doing here?” Serim blurts out pathetically, eyes practically the size of saucers. What did it look like Jungmo was doing? Signing albums and living his life happily, without Serim.

Though, Jungmo looks no different than him. He’s visibly shaken, gaping even, but he’s able to quickly recover and coolly take Serim’s album to sign. His head is down and focused but the light pink blush that’s tinging his face is so apparent. “I feel like the more appropriate question would be to ask you the same, Serim hyung” Jungmo teases lightheartedly.

“A favor for someone close to me. I had no idea you were, uh, that you’re famous,” Serim trails off awkwardly because the words ‘famous’ and ‘Jungmo’ just don’t mesh naturally in his mind.

“For your girlfriend?” Jungmo peers up at him cautiously.

Serim quickly shakes his head. “Not even close. I can’t even breathe during my own free time. My neighbor, a kid I used to babysit way back when he was younger, Seongmin,” Jungmo nods, deflating noticeably. “Oh, yeah, if you could just make that autograph out to Seongmin, that’d be great. I’ll owe you for a lifetime,” He laughs.

“I understand that—the thing about not having enough free time. Life has been hectic for me for a while now,” Jungmo says quietly, scribbling a few things onto the sticky note Seongmin has hanging off of the album’s photobook.

“I can imagine. Well, kind of. I had no idea you were doing any of this,” Serim smiles sheepishly.

Jungmo’s looking back at him, nose crinkled and amused. “It’s okay, people lose contact after high school.”

_We weren’t supposed to_ , Serim wants to tell him, but the words never leave his throat. Though, he doesn’t have any resentment to hold onto. Jungmo practically disappeared from his life after Serim graduated from high school. No warning, no goodbye, not even a pathetic letter to leave under his school locker or in his mailbox. Serim’s had years to recover from this. Though after today, he thinks that maybe that gap Jungmo left hadn’t fully closed and his suspicions are only confirmed when a staff member alerts them that time’s up and Serim suddenly doesn’t want to leave from his side so fast.

Jungmo scribbles something that Serim can’t see into the back of one of the sticky notes Seongmin has neatly laid out and slams the album shut. “Thanks for coming, Seongmin! Let’s meet each other soon!” Jungmo chirps, he’s back in idol mode.

Serim nods and skips down the stage’s steps and out of the auditorium. The day is humid, ugly and kind of disgusting to be outside. He doesn’t check to see what any of the members wrote for Seongmin, but he knows that the younger boy is going to glow with excitement once he sees all of their signatures and personalized messages. It’s not until he’s on the bus, sick of replaying all of what Jungmo told him in their short few minutes together, that he pulls the album out of his bag and flips to the page where he knows Jungmo wrote something else in. It’s a series of numbers that have Serim wondering what kind of secret language famous people speak until he realizes it’s Jungmo’s phone number.

He tears that sticky note from the photobook and shoves it into his pocket because why the fuck not? Seongmin won’t miss one little piece of paper.

Seongmin doesn’t notice that Jungmo’s post-it note is missing and squeezes half the life out of Serim in a bear hug when he finally gets home from summer academy.

After the younger boy leaves, it’s well past nine at night and Serim takes the liberty to lock himself in his room to finally test out his theory about Jungmo’s contact information. He slowly dials the number and holds the phone to his ear.

He admits, there are dozens of doubts floating in his mind as the phone rings. It rings and rings endlessly and he’s beginning to lose a faith that Jungmo will ever pick up. Until he does, that is.

“Hello?” Serim answers first, voice quiet as if he wasn’t the only one in his room.

“I was hoping you’d call,” Jungmo greets and Serim can practically hear the relief in his voice.

Serim smiles and continues on to ask how the rest of the fan signing went.

Their second meeting is disastrous, to say the least.

After texting continuously for a week and a half, Jungmo asks Serim out to some dessert place he’s interested in going to for the first time. Serim doesn’t object, he’s not good at picking out places. They meet up at around 5 in the afternoon when Jungmo is finally done with his dance practice.

They’re well on their way to this dessert place but drops of rain promptly begin to fall one by one from the sky until rain is the only thing in sight. They run to the side of a building to prevent themselves from getting wet. Serim hadn’t bothered to so much as look at today’s weather forecast and clearly, Jungmo hadn’t either.

Jungmo looks forlorn. His plans are obviously ruined by the bleak, darkened sky that beholds them. “I guess we can’t really walk to the creperie anymore.”

“I guess not,” Serim murmurs, running a hand through his dampened hair. He doesn’t want their date (he doesn’t know what to call it, so he just indulges in his delusions and calls it a date) to end literally five minutes after it started. He nudges Jungmo’s hand with his fingers and gestures to the convenience store across the street. “Wanna go inside? My treat.”

Jungmo smiles and grabs his hand.

They’re in the middle of slurping their instant ramen and sharing unforgotten inside jokes when Jungmo gets a call from his manager. Judging by the look on his face, it’s urgent because he’s immediately setting down his chopsticks and staring at Serim with widened eyes.

“Okay, thanks hyung, I’ll be there.” Jungmo ends the call and pushes his phone back into his tote bag. “I’ve gotta go in a few minutes,” He sounds disappointed.

Serim tries to comfort him with a stroke on his head. “You don’t look happy about it,” He notes.

“Well, the plan was to spend a few hours with you, hyung. I wanted to follow through on that,” Jungmo pouts childishly and Serim finds it to be the most endearing thing he’s ever seen.

“It’s okay. How about this?” Serim begins. His stomach rolls around at the thought that Jungmo possibly missing him when they finally said goodbye today. “You’re still taking the same bus you came in, right? I’ll walk you there. Look it’s not even raining anymore.”

Jungmo seems to take well to this idea because he’s already up and on his way to throwing out their trash. Serim, all too pleased with himself, follows closely behind when they walk out into the street together.

The sidewalk is still damp, but the sun is shining brightly, and the clouds have disappeared after the heavy rain. The walk to the bus stop isn’t long, probably less than ten minutes but Jungmo makes sure to squeeze in every remaining detail about his life right now. Serim learns that Jungmos’s manager called so abruptly because there’s good news that hints at another fan meeting. Their fanbase has been growing since their last album came out and it’s reflecting off of sales and fan sign attendance. Jungmo sounds genuinely humbled and honored, Serim thinks.

“You really didn’t know it was me at first?” Jungmo asks with an eyebrow cocked curiously.

Serim shakes his head. “I told you, not at all. Seongmin—my friend, he’s into that stuff. He asked me to get his album signed and well, you know, I saw you there.”

“You could’ve asked any of our friends from high school,” Jungmo says matter-of-factly.

“Yeah,” Serim trails off. He could’ve asked about Jungmo after he graduated, but he didn’t. He’d done his absolute best to block the devastation out of his memory. Having Jungmo by his side one day and then not knowing where he was or why he left town so suddenly was shocking. He spent a lot of time angry, heartbroken, and confused. Jungmo disappeared as abruptly as he arrived in his life.

“I guess this is where we part ways,” Jungmo says when the bus comes into view from the down the block. “Let’s go to that crepe place next time.”

Serim nods. “Sounds good. Text me when you make it home, yeah?”

“I will, um,” Jungmo awkwardly shuffles closer to Serim and grabs his hand, squeezing it softly before pulling back.

“You should get going,” Serim swallows a shit-eating grin and miserably fails. “The bus is right there.”

Jungmo boards the bus and waves him off from inside. Serim mouths a goodbye and walks off in the direction of his home. Hopefully, the walk home gives him enough time to unfreeze his cringy ass smiling face.

Maybe today wasn’t as horrible as he initially thought.

The third time, Jungmo comes to him. Serim is in the practice ring throwing punches, he has a match in two months that he needs to win. That prize money can get him through the next few months once the semester starts. A little after ten at night, his trainer tells him to pack up for the night and head on home.

He corrals his gloves, water bottle, and phone to head downstairs to the gym’s locker room. His trainer returns from the reception area and points with his thumb to the front. “There’s someone out front waiting for you. Best if you hurry, Serim.”

Serim isn’t expecting to see Jungmo, his manager keeps a firm eye on all of the boys to prevent them from sneaking out or doing anything reckless, Serim knows that much. But it’s Jungmo he sees, outfitted in the same dad cap and mask as before.

“Jungmo?” Serim wants to sound alarmed but instead, he sounds like a delighted fifth grader on his birthday. “What are you doing here? You told me you were at dance practice.”

“I was,” Jungmo hands him a sealed container of bubble tea and fat straw. Serim takes it despite the little voice in the back of his head telling him trainer wouldn’t like it if he gained weight just before the match. “We ended early though so I came here.”

“Thanks,” Serim pokes through the plastic top and takes a sip of the drink. Jungmo still remembers that his favorite flavor is brown sugar latte. “But what did your manager say?”

“No one knows I’m here. Just Hyeongjunnie,” Jungmo grins mischievously. “Don’t worry about that too much. We can just walk around for a bit and go home.”

“How could I not be worried? You can get in trouble. What if one of those fans, the ones that follow you guys everywhere, is following you?”

Jungmo just laughs leisurely and starts walking. “No one is following me, hyung. Come on, at least walk me close to the dorm, so I have an excuse to talk to you for thirty minutes.”

He concedes and it’s not because Jungmo’s hand is warm against his. He’s choked up, unsure what to say or ask for the next five minutes because what the fuck, this is _really_ Koo Jungmo holding his hand and buying him boba and sneaking out just for him.

“So, you kept on with boxing after high school,” Jungmo breaks the silence. “You’re not in school, hyung?”

“I am,” Serim says. “I do amateur boxing on the side. Why stop if you’re good at something, right?”

Jungmo chews on the rubbery boba. “You have a point.”

“I see your passion for singing, uh, kind of led you in the right direction,” Serim awkwardly points out. “You’re like, totally famous right now.”

Jungmo’s face burns red at that remark, caught off guard at being called famous. “I wouldn’t call it famous, yet, and it wasn’t a passion at the start. More of a hobby,” He admits.

“But you auditioned, right? For the company you’re in? Surely you knew you’d have a future in singing or acting or whatever,” Serim glances at the other, who tenses up at the subject.

“I got cast in the street, really,” Jungmo looks at him earnestly like he’s trying to prove something. “That day we went on that date to the zoo? Then we drank tea?”

He remembers that day. They’d visited a larger city near their hometown to visit the zoo and followed up with a visit to a well-known tea shop in the area. Serim distinctly recalls Jungmo taking the longest trip to the bathroom in history, followed by him running into Serim’s arms as if he was being chased. It’d been a stark memory in comparison to the rest of that innocuous day.

“That lady, she was very insistent. All of those types of people are. They make you write your information down; they spew out a bunch of promises that never happen, they give you like five copies of their business card. It’s super sketchy. I even turned her down at first,” Jungmo says. “It wasn’t my dream to be an idol or anything like that.”

“But you ended up agreeing in the end,” Serim mumbles loud enough for Jungmo to hear as they turn the corner and enter a long, empty street.

“I did,” He confesses. “She called me throughout the week, and I caved in and agreed a few days before your graduation. I asked if I could just commute to and from, but she insisted I come to Seoul. My family, they were against it. I was just a kid. You know better than anyone, we’ve always lived in our town. My dad had no reason to let me go, things were going well at his firm back home, he wanted me to follow in his footsteps.”

Jealousy itches through Serim’s body. Annoyance, the same grief he’d felt when he went marching over to Jungmo’s house after his texts and calls went ignored for four days with no explanation. The uncomfortableness is apparent on his face and Jungmo seems to pick up on his because once they arrive at a stoplight and are standing at the edge of the crosswalk, he squeezes Serim’s hand and looks at him with unreadable remorse.

“I’m sorry, hyung,” His voice is barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry I left like that. I’d be lying if I said I knew why I just left town without telling you. It was a stupid, immature choice and I hurt you. I hurt both of us.”

Serim bites his lip. “We were stupid. Some of it falls on me too. I never asked any of our friends. I never tried harder to find you. I was immature too. I hated you for a long time.”

_Ouch,_ the stings, Jungmo looks ready to recoil at that but Serim only pulls him closer when they cross the street. “I hated you, but I got over it. It was more than three years ago, Jungmo. I’m just happy you aren’t dead in a ditch somewhere. Seriously, what were you thinking? What if that lady had been a scammer?”

His attempt to lighten the mood is successful, Jungmo’s already rubbing his nape and shaking his head in fits of incredulous laughter. “Then I wouldn’t have been able to find you again,” He beams. “Seriously hyung, I feel like this is one big fever dream. You’re here, in Seoul, with me! You don’t know how happy I am to see you.”

“My trainer back home told me my boxing career would develop more if I came to the big city,” Serim chucks the empty bubble teacup in the trash. They walk slowly into a more residential area, Jungmo slowly twists his hand away. They’re probably close to his dorm now.

“I’m glad you’re here,” They come to a full stop in front of a taxi stop. “I missed you so much.”

Serim feels like he’s floating. As if one heart drop wasn’t enough for tonight, Jungmo swoops his head slightly down and presses a peck to Serim’s cheek.

“Good night Serim hyung,” Jungmo waves him off. “Thanks for walking me this far. Text me when you’re home.”

Serim, who looks something akin to a boiled tomato, utters a pathetic “Good night, Mogu,” and walks slowly back in the direction he came from. His knees buckle like cooked pasta and that’s more than enough impetus to get him walking back to the taxi stand so he can plop down inside of a taxi and not collapse in the street.

Their fourth meeting is already a thousand times better than the prior three because there’s pork belly involved and anything with meat is already exciting for Serim.

They’re tucked away in the back of some little barbeque joint that Serim frequents, throwing as much meat as they can on the tiny grill in between them. Jungmo’s throwing in the middle of chewing rice and kimchi, Serim flips the meat and serves the other boy whenever there’s a piece that’s ready to eat.

“I had a recording session today,” Jungmo mentions, looking exasperated at even the memory of it.

“Oh?” Serim bites into a piece of short rib.

Jungmo nods. “Yup. We’ve only just started promotions for our new album but we’re already starting recording and testing for our next project.”

“Idol life is pretty fast-paced. How are you guys even able to relax when you’re constantly worrying about your image or when the next concert is?” Serim asks because he’s truly curious. Jungmo looks like he handles everything in strides, he very much plays the part of a perfect idol on-screen.

“Easy,” The corner of Jungmo’s lips cock up in a smirk. “We get drunk on the weekends.”

With that, Jungmo is calling over the waitress and ordering four bottles of soju off the bat. Serim stares at him like he’s from another planet.

“I didn’t take you for a drinker, Jungmo-ah,” Serim kind of has to laugh, because this Jungmo is nothing like the nerdy, reserved high schooler he’d been with all those years ago.

“Oh, I’m not. Neither are you, Mr. Boxer, but tonight we should drink, right?” Jungmo slides his leg between Serim’s own legs.

The waitress comes back with their bottles and lays the tray down on the table next to their meat. Jungmo is holding his eyes with a daring look as if he’s telling Serim to be brave enough and take the first sip. Serim decides to grab a bottle; it’s been a while since he’s gotten drunk and with the way Jungmo looks tonight, all gorgeous and tight in his outfit, he figures he won’t make it through these next few hours without at least getting a little tipsy.

“Cheers?” Serim prompts.

“Cheers!” Jungmo answers cheerfully and clashes their bottles together.

Serim gulps down as much soju as he can and remembers why he doesn’t drink often at all. Aside from his promising boxing career, this stuff tastes like stale piss. His eyes shut reflexively at the bitter taste that hits his tastebuds. He comes to realize very quickly that he has no real plans to get drunk tonight.

His lips finally detach from the bottle, he sighs and smacks his mouth. “Urgh.”

Jungmo laughs out loud. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”

“We don’t have to drink, you know,” He consoles. “I know you like that apple-flavored soda—what’s the name?”

“Ramune?” Jungmo smirks, shoving a piece of chicken from Serim’s plate into his mouth.

Serim nods. “That one. Order two for both of us. I’ll pay.”

Jungmo pushes the soju to the side in favor of fizzy green soda. Serim throws a fat piece of steak on the grill for both of them.

This time, they talk more about the time they’ve spent apart. Jungmo goes into more detail about his time as a trainee and much like Serim has heard from friends of friends who know a guy, trainee life is about as hard as one would expect. Jungmo’s melancholic expression is enough to tell him that life was nothing short of hell during that time: sticking to a strict diet to meet weight requirements, dancing and singing like a circus clown in front of vocal coaches and executives, being shunned by other trainees for simply existing and being the new kid. Jungmo makes a point to emphasize that none of that truly changes when you debut, some sunbaes will treat you poorly and disregard you, you still have to be as thin as you can be without fainting regularly, you still dance and sing but this time it’s in front of the entire world.

“People can be kind of vicious, hyung,” Jungmo’s eyes are trained on his bowl of rice. “The comments people leave, the outright hate they spew at us sometimes, they forget we’re not robots,” He says somberly.

There’s a pang in Serim’s heart. “You’re doing your best, Jungmo. You’re obviously talented if you managed to debut and attract so many people.”

“Yeah, but it’s just physical attraction,” Jungmo counters. “A lot of people would probably not even like me if they knew my personality.”

Serim frowns. “Come on, even you know that’s a lie.”

Jungmo doesn’t respond, but he stifles a chuckle and assembles a lettuce wrap for Serim and holds it in front of him. Serim opens his mouth and shoves all of it into his mouth hastily. Jungmo laughs and wipes the trail of ssamjang that dribbles from the corner of Serim’s lips.

“Are you one of them?” Jungmo asks quietly, looking past him.

“Hmm?” Serim chews quickly and swallows down the ssam. “Am I what?”

“Do I attract you? Are you someone that I attract?” Jungmo asks brazenly, now staring intently at Serim.

Serim almost chokes, caught off guard by the younger boy’s daring question. Though he doesn’t hesitate in answering with a simple “Yeah, yes. Yes.”

Jungmo nods slowly, expression unreadable. “Wanna get out of here?”

“Okay.”

Jungmo takes them to a tiny park overlooking the hills. Veins of flashing lights and fast cars light up the city beneath them. It’s a beautiful view, Serim admits, especially now when they’re like this, pressed closed together on a creaky wooden bench, hand in hand. Jungmo’s face is burrowed between a wide brim bucket hat and a dark face mask that makes him practically unrecognizable, but a content smile peaks out on his cheeks.

“Somehow it feels like we never lost touch,” Jungmo’s staring up at the starless sky above them. “Like we just picked up from where we left off.”

“We kind of did if you really think about it,” Serim jokes. “You never really broke up with me.”

They share a chuckle because, by technicality, Serim isn’t wrong. Jungmo ghosted him, which yes, is shitty and overall just extremely unfortunate but it’s not like he actually uttered those words to Serim.

Jungmo pulls down the face mask and tucks it underneath his chin. “Is it really that easy?” He says it like he wants it to be true, like Serim’s lame joke held all the truth in the world.

“I don’t know,” Serim admits because fuck, facing Jungmo like this and talking about grown people things like feelings was never this hard when they were in high school. It was never this hard to say something so uncomplicated. “Can we even make it work this time around?”

Jungmo doesn’t answer for a while and shrivels in his place. Realistically, he’s not even supposed to be here right now, curled up between the metal arm of a bench and the hard plane of Serim’s body. “I want it to work. Last time, we were complete idiots, hyung. I was an idiot and an asshole, for a fact. Leaving you like that—”

“I told you, I got over it. You don’t have to apologize anymore,” Serim cuts in. “But, I want it to work too.”

“Serim hyung,” Jungmo’s eyes curve into two crescents, he’s grinning so hard his cheeks look ready to burst. “So, can we try this again? Do you feel the same?”

There are lots of cons to doing this and Serim has half a mind to think that Jungmo is so struck by these sudden feelings that he hasn’t considered all of the repercussions. Serim has stuck between the foolish dream of getting to call Jungmo his again and the stark reality that Jungmo isn’t his and now belongs to the public eye whether he likes it or not. Aside from that, they could very well get caught in the act. They might break up a month from now, dissatisfied and angry at each other, and yet, Serim only needs to look at Jungmo, all pretty and glowing just for him and their date, and all of those doubts are willed away.

“I’ve never stopped liking you, Jungmo,” Serim says confidently. “I want to try again.”

Jungmo wraps his arms around Serim’s torso and rests his chin on his shoulder. “Good because I wouldn’t have known what to do if you’d said no.”

“Probably cry until I said yes,” Serim snorts. “You weren’t expecting a ‘no’ though, were you?”

“Come on, you think I didn’t know you liked me? I’d love me if I were you,” Jungmo says haughtily, tongue poking out.

Serim closes in on his face, bumping their foreheads together. “Maybe I already do,” He murmurs, to which Jungmo shuts his eyes tightly in panic and blushes.

“Hyung that was so corny. Why are you always so corny?” Jungmo whines, shaking his head, hair rustling against Serim’s.

“Because I like you a lot and your reactions are so funny. Someone has to tell you how cute you are,” Serim laughs and holds Jungmo’s chin in his fingers gently like this is the only chance he’ll ever get to tell Jungmo how he feels. He thumbs at Jungmo’s plush bottom lip, staring. “Can I kiss you?”

Jungmo answers by closing the gap between them and pressing their lips together. It’s an instantaneous thing, the way their mouths begin to move around each other, melding together like two colors on a canvas. Jungmo mouth is hot against his, and although he tastes like that dumb green soda they guzzled down at the barbeque restaurant, Serim doesn’t want this to stop. This all too familiar feeling, the way Jungmo sighs into their kiss and squeezes his torso.

By the time they pull away, Jungmo looks ecstatic, swollen lips in a permanent grin. Serim can tell he’s missed him just the same and it makes him smile like a fucking idiot too. All of the tension they’ve been pressing into each other for the past month and a half has seemingly lifted.

“Can we do that again?” Jungmo asks, this time curling his arm around Serim’s neck so their chest to chest.

Serim is way ahead of him, kissing him again and as many times as he wants.

Promotions firmly take hold over Jungmo’s life for the following three weeks. Jungmo still makes an effort to text him throughout the day and call him at night once he’s tucked away inside his dorm. Serim eats it all up and makes sure he’s available for Jungmo, whose sleepy voice rings in his ears each time they talk over the phone.

Serim settles for tuning in to music shows with Seongmin to catch Jungmo and all of his bandmates dancing and jumping all over the stage. He struggles to understand the concept of why music shows even exist or why fans can be so crazy over a bunch of gangly idols but Seongmin is there to passive-aggressively explain everything.

“You would want your favorite boxer to win if you bet money on him during a match, right hyung?” Seongmin grits through his teeth. His hands are balled into tiny fists on top of his legs as he watches the screen.

“Yeah, I guess,” Serim shrugs, eyes glued to the television for any crumbs of Jungmo that come on. When he finally does, Serim points to him. “That one. I met him at the fan signing.”

Seongmin side eyes him. “You met all of them at the fan signing though?”

“Right,” Serim catches himself and shakes his head. “But what’s his name again? Changjo?” He makes sure to pick the name farthest from Jungmo’s actual name. Although it’s not like Seongmin would ever figure that he’s actually involved with Jungmo anyway.

“God, hyung, I hope you didn’t call him that when you met him!” Seongmin shrieks, pointing forcefully at the screen. “His name is Jungmo! He’s the lead vocal and he’s also a visual.”

Serim stuffs shrimp chips into his mouth and sits back on the couch. “Visual?”

“Yeah, visuals are always the best-looking members of the group. Not that the other members are ugly. I just think visuals stand out more,” Seongmin explains.

Well, his boyfriend was a visual indeed.

“Do you like him?” Serim glances over at the smaller boy, heartbeat picking up.

Seongmin nods. “I like all of them, but if you’re asking if he’s my bias, then no. My bias is Allen.”

“Allen? The rapper?” Serim asks, right on cue Allen is at the center of their dance formation, bopping about.

“That’s him!” Seongmin screams. “He’s such a great dancer and his face is so adorable. I bet a bunch of girls at the fan signing got to poke is cheek. I’m kind of jealous even thinking about that.”

Serim zones out after the next group comes out and starts performing. Seongmin watches eagerly and types furiously into his phone.

“What was the name of that song? The one that Grabbity just sang?” Serim finally asks, five groups and two commercial breaks later.

“Grabbity?” Seongmin looks mortified. “I don’t know about them but Cravity, just performed their newest title track ‘Flame’. I’ll send you the link to it on MelOn. Maybe you can listen to it and help us stream.”

“What’s stream?”

“I—” Seongmin looks about ready to rip his hair and walks out of the living room just as another commercial break starts to go get more snacks.

Serim shrugs and looks up Cravity on his phone.

Jungmo finally finishes his promotions with the group’s first music show win of the year and when he finally has two weeks of on and off vacation, he vows to spend most of his time resting with Serim. Their first-ever date as born again-boyfriends as Jungmo likes to call it, which has more to do with that fact that they got back together after so long than anything else, is at an amusement park.

“So you’re basically a luvity now?” Jungmo bites into his tornado potato skewer and holds it up to Serim, who takes a bite.

Serim shakes his head fervently. “Obviously not, but I mean, you guys make pretty good stuff. The one who does the high notes? He’s talented. So is Allen.”

“Allen?” Jungmo looks at him, amused. “You know Allen’s name?”

“Yeah, he said my shirt looks cool. That day of the fan signing,” He says as a-matter-of-fact.

“Allen is your bias in a group your own boyfriend is in because he complimented your shirt. That’s kind of what I’m understanding from all of this, hyung,” Jungmo throws the small remnants of his skewer out in the trash and pulls up his mask.

“I told you, it’s not like that. I’m just saying, Allen, is a good rapper,” Serim counters. “Besides, I’m a Jungmo stan. Don’t know if you’ve heard of him but I hear he’s very popular among the youth these days,” Serim grins madly and looks away.

Jungmo almost busts a lung cackling for two consecutive minutes.

“I can’t believe you just called yourself a ‘Jungmo stan’ and called all of my fans ‘youths’,” He says between laughs. “Oh my god, your friend, Seongmin, right? He taught you well.”

Serim smiles smugly. “Are you kidding? That kid barely helped. I learned all of the fan chants by myself.”

“We only have like three fan chants, hyung, but thanks for supporting us,” Jungmo hides his face behind his sleeves. “I wish I could kiss you right here and now. You’re the cutest thing ever.”

Serim perks up at this and places a hand at the small of Jungmo’s back. “You don’t have to be back at your dorm until later, right?”

“Not until nine-thirty, no,” Jungmo mutters. “Why?”

“No one will see us at the top of the Ferris wheel,” Serim’s eyes suggest something that Jungmo can decipher immediately.

The first five days of Jungmo’s vacation are spent taking Serim on elaborate dates around the city. They go to an escape room, they sing at a karaoke bar, they get scammed by the crane machines at the arcade, they visit the mall and shop until Serim is lugging around six bags of clothing that all belong to Jungmo. Just the fact that the younger boy was even able to convince Serim to visit their dead-end hometown is telling enough. Serim resigns himself to admit that it really is Jungmo’s world and he’s just living in it. He’s so blissed out that he doesn’t even care to complain to Jungmo each night when he’s taken them to the same tonkatsu restaurant and forced order the same things each time.

Though by the sixth night, Jungmo is tired of going out and just wants to lay cuddled up in Serim’s bed and watch movies. Serim always gives in to his desires, in fact, he prepares a small table of snacks and actually harasses Wonjin over facetime until he gives the best movie recommendations he has.

At around eight, Jungmo shows up, a small tote bag of his belongings in hand. Serim’s heart feels weak at the sight of Jungmo, bare-faced, comfortably dressed in sweat shorts and a baggy shit, it’s the first night he’s going to stay over at Serim’s place.

Jungmo slips his sneakers off of his feet, drops his overnight bag, and falls into Serim’s arms, wrapping around him lazily. “Hyung,” He drones, eyes shut tightly. “Please carry me before my legs give out.”

Serim swats Jungmo’s bottom playfully and tries to walk towards the hallway to his room with Jungmo still clinging to him helplessly. “Come on, Mogu. It’s only a few steps away, you can make it.”

“You’re no fun,” Jungmo pulls away from Serim’s torso and walks the remaining distance to Serim’s room. The room is dark, only lit up by a tiny bedside lamp and there’s a bunch of food that he knows Jungmo loves on a tiny table close to the floor.

“I take it back,” Jungmo uses whatever strength he has to tackle Serim onto his bed and cling his extremities to the older boy the same way a koala would. “You’re the best, hyung, the most fun! Doing all of this for me. You didn’t have to go all out like this.”

Serim looks away, too embarrassed by Jungmo’s unwavering gaze that only stares at him with affection and gratitude. He pecks Jungmo’s cheek and pulls them up from where they lay on each other on his bed. “Why don’t we eat first and then lay down to watch, yeah? I don’t want you going to sleep without eating dinner.”

“A man who worries about me and my appetite?” Jungmo rolls off him and flails his arms up melodramatically and stares at the ceiling. “Like I’ve been told, the bigger the bicep, the bigger the heart.”

“My biceps aren’t even that big though,” Serim rolls his eyes but there’s no malice in it. They sit down in front of the television and takeout and start the first movie.

Jungmo shoves a gimmari into his mouth and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Yeah, but you know what’s actually big? Your—”

“Jungmo!” Serim cries out, slamming his chopsticks down onto the table in total perturbation.

“What?” He spits out, mouth full of glass noodles and vegetables. “I was just gonna say you also kind of have big feet too, gosh.”

They both know that isn’t true and after an intense staring contest that Jungmo wins, they break into laughter. It feels so natural to forget everything around them that for the next hour and a half of the movie, they do, only eating and whispering about the movie to each other.

Once the first movie ends, Jungmo is more than ready to lay down in bed. Serim soon joins him, leaving his chest open for Jungmo to rest his head on. Their legs slide together like puzzle pieces, naturally, like they’ve been cuddling expertly for the last years. Serim decides that making out at the top of a Ferris wheel can barely hold a candle to stroking Jungmo’s hair slowly and soothing circles into his back while they lay together in bed. It’s so peaceful that it has Serim wondering if the next few days they spend together can be like this. Locked away together, cozy, tightly knit like two gloves that match.

He hopes that maybe Jungmo will slow it down on these dynamic, intricate dates because once he’s back in the recording studio and has to start being Jungmo the idol and not Jungmo his big baby, he knows he’ll miss moments like these.

“Hyung?” Jungmo’s chin is titled up at him looking up at him through his eyelashes.

Serim stares down at him. Jungmo must have noticed he wasn’t paying attention. “What’s up?”

“Nothing you just looked like you were thinking about something,” He nuzzles into Serim’s chest. “You okay?”

“No,” It flows out of Serim’s mouth before his brain can think of an excuse.

“What? What’s wrong?” Jungmo lays his head directly on top of Serim’s heart and silently listens.

What was Serim supposed to say? He feels so ridiculous he decides to just embarrass himself further and come out with the truth. “Just,” He shakes his head. “Nothing. I just started thinking. About how much I’ll miss you when you go back to work.”

“Serimmie hyung,” Jungmo coos, shuffling his torso slightly upward so he can press a dry kiss to Serim’s bottom lip. “You miss me before I’ve even left? You’re seriously too cute for me.”

“Stop embarrassing me like this,” Serim begs. “It’s stupid. I don’t know, I guess I love you a lot.”

The words slip out again, he’s not even trying now. He’s speaking openly because fuck it, love makes even the firmest men shameless and he’s not ashamed to admit that Jungmo makes him happy to no end.

They’d never exchanged ‘I love you’s before. Serim couldn’t blame either of them. They were immature brats who were still exploring their own identities. Serim had barely loved himself three years ago, let alone another person. Maybe they hadn’t loved each other back then but they’d come pretty damn close.

“Was it too soon into the relationship to say that?” Serim asks when he sees that Jungmo only gives him a wide smile.

Jungmo shakes his head. “No, silly,” He props up his head on his hand that pushes down on Serim’s ribcage. “We make two months in three days, you know.”

“I know, I haven’t planned any date yet, though,” Serim tucks a strand of hair behind Jungmo’s ear.

“Just spending time with you is enough,” Jungmo reassures him. “We don’t have to do anything special.”

Serim kisses the crown of Jungmo’s head and wraps his arms around him. “I’ll think of something.”

They go back to watching the second movie, a cheesy romantic comedy about a clueless woman and her boss. Of course, Jungmo eats it all up, laughing at the predictable jokes and crying when the protagonist cries too. Serim is there to wipe his tears and tease him about being his big baby.

When the dramatic scene subsides, they go back to watching in silence. When Serim looks out his window a few minutes later, the sun has long disappeared from the sky. It’s just past eleven by the time the second movie ends and Jungmo’s eyes are fluttering shut.

“Serim hyung?” Jungmo murmurs, sliding off of Serim’s body and instead, settling down next to him. “I love you a lot too.”

He didn’t have to say it, because Serim knows how much he means to Jungmo, but it feels good, nonetheless. As much as he wants to slip into a blissful slumber with the younger, he spots the leftovers that sit unattended on the coffee table and groans.

“I’m gonna clean this up,” He whispers, reluctantly rising from bed. “Just stay here okay?”

Jungmo had initially volunteered to clean up their mess but judging by how tired he looks; he was in no state to do anything. Serim doesn’t mind, Jungmo is always there to plan their dates and fill in the silence with his awful jokes, the least he can do is this.

The following morning, Jungmo is still there with him, snoring softly into his shoulder.

Serim is at peace. He knows Jungmo has to leave in a few hours and will probably head home for the next few days. Serim wishes he could join him and sneak a few visits to his own parents, but he has a fight coming up.

Jungmo’s long lashes fan against his face, fluttering in a haze. He’s lying on his side and facing Serim in seconds, eyes still barely open from the rays of the sun that his face.

“Good Morning,” Jungmo chirps with his sleep rasped voice.

“Morning,” Serim whispers. “Come here, baby,”

Jungmo does, he slides between Serim’s legs and although he’s just a tad taller than the older boy, he feels so small in front of Serim like this. His hair is matted and mussed on one side from laying to his side the entire night. Serim runs his fingers through the messy nest of brown hair. “Wanna make pancakes together?”

“With banana inside them?” Jungmo asks him, eyes wide.

Serim smiles. He’ll have to get up and drag his ass to the supermarket a few streets over to buy bananas, which is something he isn’t feeling inclined to do, but he pecks Jungmo’s lips and nods. “Anything you want, Mogu,” Jungmo just has that much power over him.

Jungmo ends up leaving later in the afternoon and as quickly as they come, the days without him seem to pass by in a blur. Jungmo often video calls him and sends him pictures of the expanses of hills and flower fields in their hometown. Serim sends him texts in between breaks during practice. He has a fight that’s quickly approaching and can’t spare a moment to sit down and collect his breath.

His fight falls on the day of their two-month anniversary and Jungmo is understanding of the fact that they might not be able to see each other until the day after his match. Serim’s probably more upset than he is; they hadn’t been able to celebrate their first month together because Jungmo was completing promotional activities at the time. It’s unfortunate but the comfort of knowing he’ll see Jungmo the very next day is just enough to keep him smiling.

The night of his fight, he’s at a boxing auditorium just outside of Gangnam. The fight promoters manage to secure quite a large audience, probably the largest audience he’s ever seen before. His fights had never been so localized in Seoul either, he’s not used to the fancy locker room and showers that await him.

“You nervous?” Wonjin, the son of his trainer and by default one of his only friends, asks him at the final weigh-in. Serim always hated weigh-ins, they were just glorified, often violent photo-ops that had no real merit.

“You know I’m not,” Serim nudges him. “Kinda just want this to be over soon, that’s all.”

Wonjin snickers. “It will be if you get in there and fight to your best ability.”

Serim grimaces. He begins to peel off his shirt and sweatpants. “Gross, you’re starting to sound just like your dad.”

His opponent and his team finally step onto the stage. It’s an older guy, stocky and short, not too different from his past opponents. His opponent is staring at him, cold and hard, in an attempt to intimidate Serim, who is still new to the upper circuit of amateur boxing. There’s a line of cameras and microphones being shoved into his face from all directions. The clicks and flashes from several press cameras partially blind him.

“You’ve got this, hyung,” Wonjin leads him onto the scale. Nothing out of the normal, Serim had been watching his diet and water intake for months now. He steps off the scale and faces his opponent who stands inches away from him.

When the press finally feels content enough with their pictures and perpetually egging both of them on until they’re angry and his opponent is trash talking his team, calling them newbies and undeserving, Serim shrugs him off and steps off and into the locker room’s hallway. It only gives him more of a reason to beat this guy’s face in.

When he gets to the boxing ring, his trainer and Wonjin are in his corner below, cheering him on and reminding him not to overthink too much, he’s got this. Serim immerses himself, it’s time to fight. His opponent is about the same height and weight as he is, the only advantage he might have is experience.

The bell rings and starts off the match. They’re already circling each other on the ring, Serim’s eyes are locked on the other man’s enraged eyes. He’s floating on the ring, moving left and right, trying to find the best time to strike. His opponent beats him to it. Serim dodges, instead of striking the other with a couple of faced-paced jabs. The crowd jeers. His opponent’s face contorts as Serim’s gloved fist connects with his jaw.

The three-minute round ends like that, Serim is barely able to get any other punches in because this guy seems to be moving fast.

Wonjin and his father are already waiting for him in their corner of the ring. Serim plops down on the tiny stool and allows Wonjin’s deft fingers to pull out his mouthguard and wipe his face down.

“You’re doing good, son. Remember, he’s gonna get tired soon enough. Go on the offensive when you see him start circling around and trying to lead you forward. You’re fast enough to distract him,” The minute has with the pair is up and suddenly he’s being pushed off of the stool and towards the middle of the ring.

He’d have to keep it going for eleven more rounds.

_Ding, ding!_

The harsh bell strikes again and marks the start of the second round. Serim exhales.

By the end of the twelfth and final round, Serim is tired and covered in his own blood and sweat. He’s able to win by a total knock out in the final seconds, a single hook to his opponent’s face sends the older man flying onto the mat unconscious. Serim thinks he’s not so far off and feels like all of the contents of his stomach might spill over if he continues to fight.

The referee counts the seconds and when his opponent isn’t able to get up, the ref holds up Serim’s arm, marking his victory. Coach Ham and Wonjin are at his side, alongside a dozen or so suit-clad men, camera crews, and scantily clad women. His opponent is already up and congratulating him with a firm handshake and sullen expression. Microphones are being shoved into his face asking a slew of questions regarding his victory and his new-found status as a ‘monster rookie.’

“Honestly, I just want to shower right now,” Serim dismisses the reporters and fight promoters who were patting his back and promising him grandeur. He slides right out of the boxing ring, pushing past the swarm of people around him. Coach Ham could answer everything for him because right now his mind feels like putty underneath the hot lights of the auditorium.

He’s tired, anxious, and pretty sure the throbbing under his eye was going to leave him with a big fat bruise in the morning. The only thing he thinks of is removing his ill-fitting shorts and washing his hair, messy and matted with perspiration.

Serim gets about as far as the long corridor to the locker rooms until he’s startled by the massive bouquet of flowers in front of him, directly covering what’s supposed to be someone’s face. The owner of the bouquet removes the flowers directly from their face. It’s Jungmo, smirking triumphantly.

“Hyung! Congratulations—” Jungmo begins before he’s tackled to the wall by Serim. Serim’s bare arms constrict his body in a tight hug. The exhaustion and annoyance minimize with each passing second.

“You’re here,” Serim moans brokenly. “You came to see me fight?” His face is an ugly mix of harsh colors: black and blue from the bruising, pink from how hard he was blushing in embarrassment.

He can feel Jungmo nod despite his neck being cut off from all its circulation by Serim’s arms. “I wanted to surprise you. Looks like I succeeded?”

“Yeah, yeah, you did, Jungmo,” Serim kisses him, soft and sweet. Before Jungmo can kiss him back, the moment is over, they can’t get caught here and now. “Thank you so much. These flowers are pretty. I love you so much.”

Jungmo transfers them into his grasp. “I love you too, hyung,” He mutters shyly. “Happy two months. I had to be with you today and cheer you on. I’m so proud of you,” His thumb strokes Serim’s undereye, the area is swollen and hot, blooming with purple and red.

“Happy two months,” Serim bites back a smile. “I can’t believe you have to see me like this. I look like actual crap right now,” He laughs.

“Ehh, you do look a little rough around the edges right now,” Jungmo teases, still running his thumb across his black eye. “Doesn’t mean I don’t love you. You looked really manly up there. It was honestly kind of hot.”

Serim cradles Jungmo’s head in his hands. “Hot? It was hot watching me beat some guy up?”

“Yeah, what’s so bad about that?” Jungmo shrugs. “Now go shower so we can go home. You’re sweaty and we can’t celebrate if you’re all gross.”

“Celebrate?” Serim wonders what that would entail.

Jungmo’s ears burn a crimson red. “It’s not like you have anything to do tomorrow right? If you don’t have anywhere to be early, I wanted to stay the night at your place and we could—um, but if you want—”

Serim’s face lights up. “No!” He bursts. “No, I’ll go and shower. I promise it’ll only take a few minutes. We can go home and start this celebration right after, okay?” He takes Jungmo’s hand and leads them inside the empty locker room.

The door shuts with a slam behind them. Serim thinks the best part of his entire day has just started now that Jungmo is here.

**Author's Note:**

> title (and the plot) inspired from wanna one's "light"  
> thanks if you made it this far...my writing can be a bit...bad LOL  
> first fic on this platform >.< so plz lmk what u think
> 
> (also big thank you to mergu <3 forever part of your fan club u w u)


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